Left Alone
"Run. Run! RUN!" The clouds above the city parted, the bulbous, reflective purple hull of a Covenant frigate pushing them aside as it descended. For the briefest moment, Michael thought the sun had come into view with the ship, but as Sasha's warning processed in his mind, he recognized the sky was lit not by Groombridge 1618a, but the plasma gathering in the energy projector of the incoming frigate. Eyes widening, he turned eastward and pushed into a sprint, the clattering of gear soon drowned out by an ever strengthening rumble as the beam collapsed building after building, carving a path through the city. "Dive!" Trusting Sasha, Michael narrowed down his options, settling on a nearby car, and dove over the hood, landing and pressing back against the vehicle, eyes squeezed shut. Even looking away from the beam, he soon saw the darkness of his closed eyes fill up to a bright white as the beam passed by, glass shattering above him from the pressure wave and pinpricks of heat trailing up his back. The sensation lasted a good five seconds before he returned to darkness. Blinking his eyes open and standing, Michael grinned when he saw Sasha doing the same, jogging over and pulling her into a hug. "Something tells me that's not what they meant when they told us to find a ship." Sasha chuckled, shaking her head as she pulled herself into the hug. "What? Not even an 'are you okay' first?" Dropping from the hug, Michael shook his head a bit, turning to look back over the destruction the glassing beam had carved out behind them. "You were further away from... that than I was. Besides, you've always been the tougher of us." He leaned in to give her a brief peck on the cheek. "Come on. Let's get going. We're gonna need some extra time to figure out how to get back, so the quicker we finish up, the better." Sasha smiled after the kiss, nodding as she pulled the SRS tighter over her shoulder. "After you, then, Mike." The duo pushed their way through the rubble-strewn streets of the city, sticking close to the sides of buildings as they walked, the pattern second nature to them by this point. Day after day they'd been one of the teams sent out into the ruins of Maponos in search for some form of space-worthy vessel, one soldier for defense should fighting be unavoidable, one pilot to fly whatever they find, and a sniper rifle shared between the pair to handle any pesky jackals they found along the way. Yet the pair knew that stealth would be their ally on this mission. Just a few blocks from the Optican building they'd claimed as HQ, the UNSC presence fell to near nothing, paving the way for Covenant dominance of the streets. Even if they'd sent a full platoon out on this mission, direct engagement would be little better than suicide, especially now that easy reinforcements had been cut off by the frigate's glassing path. No, in order to survive this, they'd need to get in and out while leaving the aliens none the wiser. And thus, a tense silence fell between the pair, Sasha keeping her eyes peeled on the rooftops for any Jackals looking to take an easy shot on the pair as Michael kept his focus on the ground, leading the way through the twists and turns of the city streets. He found himself gripping his rifle tight in his hands, knuckles surely turning white beneath his gloves by this point. Sure, he trusted her with his life, but even with the edge her cybernetic eye gave her, it was just as much a game of chance as skill. Sasha couldn't look everywhere at once. Minutes stretched into hours as they wandered the city, Michael only ever breaking the silence to point out buildings of interest and decide with Sasha which were worth the time it would take to investigate. Sasha, in turn, only spoke first to warn of potential snipers, though they'd had the luck of most turning out to be false alarms today. Even those encounters that had been true Jackals saw the couple with the upper hand. Sasha, noticing the Jackals first, took a quick few shots from the SRS each time, taking out the threats. Though one of the times she’d not had the chance to warn him before she fired. “For fuck’s sake! Gonna give me a heart attack.” “Sorry, they were setting up to shoot! Had to get them first.” “Fine… All clear?” “All clear.” “Let’s just get back to it, then.” It had started to become more and more distant a hope that they'd ever find something out here with each failed excursion. And even if they did find a working dropship, what good would it do? The Covenant had been ruthless in cutting down evacuation vessels during the first days of the Siege, and Michael saw no reason they'd do any differently this time. He couldn't help but wonder why the surviving command elements kept trying to find a way off-world, rather than just wait out the siege. The Covenant hadn't glassed the world yet, so it seemed a much less distant hope that they could just keep carrying on in the Optican building, living life and holding off attack after attack until reinforcements came. Then why did he agree to come on these excursions? He found himself wanting to say no, again and again, to share his concerns, to push for the survivors to just... hold out, keep fighting, and live day by day. Perhaps they didn't have anyone left to live that life for? He counted himself lucky, to have found someone where he did. They'd all lost so much, yet he and Sasha had been given the opportunity to make something new, for once. They just had to survive for each other. Glancing back at her, sweeping the rooftops above them, he couldn't help but smile, shaking his head softly. Perhaps he was looking at it wrong, and everyone else did have someone left to live that life for, and that's why they were doing this. Hell, if he really stopped to think about it, she was the reason he was out here, patrolling the streets, riding on a futile hope for a way to get off Sirona. He'd been lucky enough to have someone here that was able to make the Siege bearable, but everyone else... perhaps their someones were off-world or were like Sasha. They couldn't be content to just sit around, waiting for someone else to save them while the galaxy burned, they had to get back out there and fight. No matter how good they could make the current situation seem, how little hope there was in looking for a way off-planet, they couldn't just sit around and wait. And goddammit, if enough people couldn't sit around and wait, everyone who could, who were comrades with those people, friends, lovers, well, they couldn't just sit around and wait either, leaving their comrade, friend, lover to get themselves killed alone. And so, he found himself back to patrolling the streets, day after day. For Sasha's sake. And with that in mind, by the time the sun had started to set, he'd finally managed to settle into a more relaxed stance. He didn't quite take the lack of encounters for granted, but perhaps he'd started to hope in something again, that they'd make it through the day without issue. Find someplace to hunker down that was nice, warm, and gave them food to fill their bellies and water to wet their throats. Once again it seemed he was one of the lucky ones. Rounding a corner, Michael grinned and whispered backward to Sasha. "Got a hospital. Probably has an ambulance hangar. Think we should check it out?" "Hospitals are always a safe bet. Even if it's not got any Pelicans, it'd be a good place to settle in for the night. Food, water, medical supplies." "Plenty of comfortable beds, eh..?" He grinned, chuckling softly as Sasha groaned. "Come on, you know it's true." "You're horrible, Mike. Let's just check it out." The woman pushed ahead before he could answer, leaving him jogging to catch up, the door shutting in front of him before he could even make it fully across the street. "Sasha! Wait up!" He jogged the rest of the way, pushing inside, looking around the darkened interior. Light filtered in through the glass door, but, as the dusk approached, even that started to die out, barely reaching ten feet into the lobby. Squinting to adjust to the dimness, he thought he spotted his companion across the room and called out. "Sasha?" "Yeah, it’s me, Michael! Tried the power, didn't work." "Understood." Flicking on his night vision, he blinked and adjusted to the room now illuminated to his view, making out Sasha's shape across the lobby by a door, heading towards him. Grinning, he started to head towards her, but as he did, something caught his eye to her right. Squinting, it wasn't until a burst of light flared into existence from the shape's left hand that he realized the danger, "Sasha! Four o'cl..." His warning was cut off by a punch to his back, followed shortly by a searing agony through his torso. Trying to look down, he felt his head held in place by four claws wrapped around his helmet, screaming in pain as the energy sword was withdrawn from his belly and he was left dangling by the grip on his head. He barely registered the clatter of his AR to the ground as he was turned around, coming face to face with the ugly bastard that had stabbed him, his body failing him as cries for help turned to gasping breaths and a weak muttering of words, drowned out by his helmet speakers crudely translating the words spoken by the beast. "Pathetic worm. He allowed his guard." He felt the pressure close in around his head and weakly started flailing his legs and arms towards the Elite, trying to kick, punch, do anything to the creature that'd allow him to escape its grasp. He barely registered when he started to scream again, focused solely on two things. "I've got to get out of his grip," and "Is Sasha okay?" As the corners of his vision crept inward, darkening, his thoughts slowly lost their cohesion, eventually only one word repeating in his mind. "Sasha. Sasha. Sash... a..." A crack burst through the muffled sounds of his surroundings, and, in a rush, his vision faded completing to black, and he was falling. Then he hit the floor. "Was it meant to happen that fast?" "Michael! Mike... no! Mike!" He couldn't quite make out what he perceived first, but it was perhaps her scent or the touch of a hand against his chinstrap. "Is she here, too? Was my warning too late?" Then his helmet was torn off, and with it, the visor blocked by alien blood, leaving him looking up at the face of his lover through the darkness, the still smoking muzzle of her SRS barely visible past her shoulder. "No! You can't, please, no..." Her words were panicked, desperate, hands scrambling over his armor, rushing to tear it off and reaching for a biofoam cannister at the same time. "I'm going to die..." The realization came upon Michael suddenly. Or perhaps he had known it since the moment he'd been stabbed, and it took his lover frantically trying everything she could to save him to realize it? Regardless, it was clear to him now. "We're still alive, but I'm going to die, and she isn't. I'm going to die and I'm going to leave her alone here. I can't... leave her alone here." It was getting harder to even think straight. Closing his eyes, he shook his head. His right arm reached across his body to his left, pulling the glove off, and then the watch, managing to trigger the release after a few seconds of scrambling and clutch the device in his hand. He opened his eyes again and was met with her gaze locked on his, her one good eye betraying the sorrow its cybernetic counterpart lacked. And then his gaze drifted south, settling at last on the titanium pendant that hung from her neck, dangling above his chest. His hand weakly reached up, clasping the pendant and watch together as his eyes returned once more to meet his lover's gaze. Taking a gasping breath, he managed to choke out a sentence as he felt her hand curl around his. "You were... always... the tougher of us..." Speaking saw what was left of his strength fade from his body, right arm slumping to his side, leaving Sasha to grip the pendant and watch alone. All that was left to his thoughts was a simple, sudden realization. "She is so beautiful." Even as the tears streamed down her face, and he couldn't muster the strength to wipe them away, that one thought clung to his mind. "She is so beautiful." Even as she raged, slamming the watch into the floor again and again. As he tried to calm her down, let her know it was alright, and his words failed him, that one thought clung to his mind. "She is so beautiful." Even as he took in one last gasp, his burnt lungs sputtering for air that would no longer sustain him, his vision fading and all else failing him, that one thought clung to his mind. "She. Was. So. Beautiful." Category:The Weekly